Coerced (Billionaire romance)(6)
Bah.
The west coast cousins had lost their collective minds.
He smirked.
Their wives must have pretty persuasive pussies to change men like Dillon, Vince and Nolan.
But there was no pussy in the world sweet enough to change him.
And that was a fact he took extreme comfort in.
***
Elizabeth wandered the new, spacious apartment — did this monstrous space qualify as an apartment? — wondering what Sutton planned to do with all the square footage of his newly rented place.
Take your virginity.
She blushed hard at the knowledge. It was a surreal thing to both anticipate and dread something that usually happened organically.
Except in her case, there was nothing organic about what was about to happen.
Think of something else or you’ll go insane!
Her gaze frantically sought out a distraction. The place was beautiful, of course.
Why would a billionaire suffer anything less than the best that money could buy.
Fine art— good God, was that an original Monet? — graced the walls, perfectly complementing the equally fine furnishings, which only accentuated the overall sense that she didn’t belong amid such opulent wealth.
For crying out loud, her idea of splurging was dropping twenty bucks on a Target purse — and usually she had a coupon for it!
This was not normal.
Not in a million years could she ever imagine that she’d be in this position but here she was, standing like a forlorn, bedraggled plant amidst an apartment filled with hothouse beauties, awaiting her fate.
Oh, stop being so dramatic, a voice in her head snapped when she felt tears starting to burn behind her eyelids.
It’s not as if he were going to lop off her head once he was through with her.
Not to mention, he’d already casually dropped that he rarely remained interested in one thing for long.
For a relatively short time she’d have to endure being his...um...well, for lack of a better term, plaything, and then when it was all said and done, she’d have a shit ton of money to go find a really good therapist because God only knew, she’d need one after this experience.
She rounded the corner and found the bedroom.
A huge four-poster bed dominated the burgundy-walled room and Elizabeth felt her courage slipping.
Her stare remained riveted to the bed, even as her knees shook.
Was Sutton a gentle lover?
She nearly barked a laugh. She could guess the answer to that one.
Would he at least take into consideration the fact that she’d never had sex before?
Would it hurt?
She’d heard stories and as stories went, experiences varied.
Some said losing their V-card hadn’t hurt at all, barely noticing when the guy stuck it in, but others said it felt as if they were being split in two.
She suppressed a shudder. If there was a God...
But from what she remembered of Sutton’s cock in her mouth...it was big.
Which meant...her cheeks heated anew.
It’s going to hurt.
Maybe she could back out.
Maybe Sutton would take into consideration that she’d made a hasty decision and wouldn’t hold her to it.
Again with the false hope.
Any man who would coerce a woman so effortlessly, so ruthlessly for his own gain, wouldn’t give two shits about a woman’s obviously hasty deal-making skills.
Just get right with your decision because it’s going to happen.
That meant, no amount of quibbling or hand-wringing on her part was going to make a bit of difference.
Besides, Gretchen needed her and that was the crux of it all. All decisions hinged on that fulcrum.
Gretchen couldn’t survive on her own and Elizabeth couldn’t afford to help her without Sutton’s money.
So...in black and white terms...Elizabeth would have to see this through, no matter the pain, the degradation, the assassination of her dignity because she loved her sister dearly and would do anything to keep her safe.
Squaring her shoulders, Elizabeth strode into the bedroom as if she owned the place and began unpacking her meager things.
If this were to become her home-away-from-home for a time, she’d need to be able to find her toothbrush.
There was no turning back so there was no sense in looking backward.
Just endure — and then get the fuck out and forget it ever happened.
Bookmark: 5
-5-
Sutton entered the apartment around six that evening. He found Elizabeth in the living room, reading a book she must’ve found in one of the bookshelves.
He’d rented the apartment fully furnished, so he had no idea what kind of books were available but he found the sight of Elizabeth engrossed, particularly alluring.
Her feet, tucked up beneath her, finger idly playing with bottom lip as she turned the page with the other hand.
The white, cotton slip of a dress that was a tad small for her ample chest, was enough to send his engine roaring into overdrive.
Everything about her was soft and lush, even her mouth — those pouty lips had felt like heaven wrapped around his cock — and he couldn’t wait to know her fully.
Calm down, be in control.
He took a heartbeat to cool his jets, then strode into the room with a pleased expression.
“Don’t you look the picture of purity,” he said, surprising her.
Elizabeth jumped with a tiny gasp and closed the book.
Her nervousness obvious in the way her gaze darted and her hands remained clenched at her side, as if she were unsure of the right move.
Adorable.
“How does this work?” she asked, swallowing as she met his gaze. “I mean, what happens now?”
He chuckled as he began to unbutton his suit jacket. “So eager. But don’t worry, there’s plenty of time for the main event. Would you like a glass of wine?”
She hesitated but agreed, perhaps realizing the wine would soothe her nerves. “One glass won’t hurt, I suppose.”
“That’s the spirit,” he said, approving.
He procured wine glasses and a chilled bottle of white from the wine cooler and poured two glasses.
She accepted the glass and raised her gaze to his. He lifted his glass.
“I propose a toast...here’s to an equitable business relationship with deliciously decadent strings attached.”
“That’s an odd toast but I guess it’s appropriate given the circumstances,” she commented but nevertheless drank and then offered up a compliment. “You have excellent taste in art. I like the Monet.”
He shrugged. “I can’t take the credit. The apartment came fully furnished. My one concern was the bedroom. I particularly enjoy a four-poster bed — makes for excellent posts from which to secure your lover.”
She paled and gulped. “What do you mean?”
Sutton enjoyed the way her gaze widened with fear at the unknown but he had no wish to frighten the girl silly.
He wasn’t that much of a monster.
“Fear not, Elizabeth. I don’t plan to maim you or anything so barbaric. But restraining a lover...adds to the experience for both involved.”
“I can’t imagine how,” she disagreed with obvious distaste. “I don’t wish to be tied up.”
“Too bad.”
The quick snap of her gaze to his told a story she didn’t even realize she was authoring.
The buxom beauty had deeply hidden desires and he couldn’t wait to pluck them from her subconscious.
Sutton leaned in, invading her personal space. “Tell me, sweetness...did you enjoy sucking my cock? The taste of me as I filled your mouth?”
A blush stained her cheeks and her breath caught. “I...”
“Don’t lie.”
She bit her lip as if, indeed, a lie had been prepared to fly from her sweet mouth.
Finally, she jerked an ashamed nod.
Inordinately pleased, Sutton rewarded her with a warm smile and stepped away, finishing his wine with an order.
“Come Elizabeth. Time to discover what secrets you have between your thighs and more importantly...between your ears.”
***
She wanted to drag her feet, feign sickness, outright refuse — anything to keep from following him into the bedroom.
“I’m afraid,” she blurted out, stopping him as he crossed the threshold. He turned. “I’m afraid it’s going to hurt.”
“Which part?” he asked, nonplussed, as if she needed to be more specific.
Elizabeth frowned. “Don’t play dumb. I’ve never had sex before and you’re...well, as they say, well-endowed so that, logically, leads me to believe that when you try to do your thing...it’s going to hurt. And I’m not a big fan of pain so...I’m afraid.”
She glared at him for making her spell it out when he knew full well what she’d been talking about.
Sutton Buchanan was such a prick and worse, he didn’t seem to care.
“Do you mean to flatter me into being a gentle lover for your first time?”
“Flatter you? How did I flatter you?” Elizabeth stared, trying not to notice the peek of smooth, muscular chest beneath the crisp white of his open dress shirt. He was a prick and a handsome devil, too.
Wasn’t the devil the prettiest of God’s angels? Not that she was particularly religious or anything.
She refocused on Sutton with a firm press of her lips. “You don’t make a bunch of sense when you talk.”
“When a woman tells a man he’s well-endowed...that’s a pretty nice compliment.” He grinned with pride. “Not that I haven’t heard it before but I like hearing it from you.”
“Well, to be fair, I’ve only seen yours but it seemed pretty big,” she said with a sniff, disliking the idea of complimenting him on anything much less something that filled him with such manly pride. “For all I know, you could be hung like a...spider monkey. I have no real point of reference.”